


A Vacation Long Overdue

by nerdqueenenterprise



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: ALSO phil is really loving that chris accidentally grew out his hair, Cuddles, Fluff, M/M, Massages, Reunion Sex, also Chris spends a lot of time sleeping like some kind of nerd, the boys are on a long overdue vacation and they're loving it, yeah that's ... pretty much it tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 13:24:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11647449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdqueenenterprise/pseuds/nerdqueenenterprise
Summary: They've been apart for the past six months - Phil desperately trying to get a grip on the new strain of bacteria that's practically terrorising Hectom II and Chris doing what a 'fleet captain does, which apparently is shuttling dignitaries around and then getting in a massive space battle.Point is, they missed each other. And now they're together again and it has been too long.





	A Vacation Long Overdue

**Author's Note:**

> For Ricky, who's to blame for dragging me into this ship. Also just in case you're interested: Chris didn't die in ID, idk what y'all are talking about >.<

Ultimately, it’s the sound of Chris’ admittedly very soft snoring that wakes Phil. The sun is already up far enough that the bedroom of their floating condo is fully illuminated, and the doors leading to the patio are still open, letting the sound of waves rolling against the not so distant shoreline and the cries of the seabirds and the whisper of the wind, the weather being just this side of rough today, inside their open space. But the fact that amongst all these sounds it’s the noises of his lover that wake him, that’s just sad because it shows how long it’s been since they’ve slept in the same bed. 

Phil rolls to his side, eyeing Chris appreciatively. They haven’t seen each other in person for almost six months, Phil off to the insane medical conflict that was the Hectom II system until very recently and Chris stuck with mainly shuttling various dignitaries around with the  _ Yorktown _ until the clusterfuck involving the revolution on Insobularis and its moons that ended with a firefight so long and so bad the ship only barely limped into docks at Starbase 58. Logically speaking, Phil is glad that Chris is alive and well enough and sleeping next to him. Starfleet hasn’t seen a battle as bad as the Insobularis one in ages, both in intensity and damage as well as in length, and Phil doubts Chris had more than five hours of sleep every day for the past two or three weeks.

Point is, he really, really can’t fault Chris for taking the first shuttle off the starbase, arrive planetside, grab a water taxi and fall into bed at their rented floating condo seconds after their first kiss. They’re goddamn lucky the admiralty didn’t want to debrief Chris directly after docking, goddamn lucky a total of three medical response ships were dispatched by the ‘fleet and it wasn’t necessary for Phil to join the fray, goddamn lucky they’d already rented the condo since the  _ Yorktown _ was scheduled for a long leave anyways and the battle didn’t draw too much time from that, goddamn lucky Chris is (mostly) fine.

And god, yeah he  _ is _ fine, Phil muses, tracing over the knobs of Chris’ spine, skin space-pale. As always when they’re apart, Chris’ exercise schedule turns from crazy to completely insane, and Phil estimates he put on a good ten kilos of muscle. He cannot wait for his lover to put that to good use, but he also knows he has to let Chris get the rest he so desperately needs and reserves. Really, if Chris hadn’t fallen into bed immediately, Phil would have knocked him out and handcuffed him to the headboard, because he’d looked like death himself, pale, eyes sitting deep in their sockets, mouth set in a hard line, hair a mess, unshaven (and not in the sexy way) - in short, Chris’d looked like he was beyond needing a vacation and more like he needed retirement.

He’s looking better now, the crystalline sunlight dancing over his naked skin, half of his face buried in the pillows, the other half slack in utter relaxation, breath going oh-so-slowly. And he’s snoring, something he only does when he’s absolutely utterly relaxed and in the deepest sleep. And he’s also drooling a little bit, which is fucking adorable.

His hair has gotten a good bit longer too, Phil notes, running his fingers through it and notices the knots in it almost too late, reluctantly removing his hand. Chris doesn’t deserve to be woken up that rudely by his lover carelessly pulling his hair; and Phil has every intention of getting Chris to relax utterly in the following days. He’s already skirting the line with crowding in on Chris like that, and it’s a testament to his exhaustion that he hasn’t woken up yet. 

And Phil moves in really close, close enough to be able to count his lover’s individual eyelashes, close enough to smell his breath and give an estimate on how long it’s been since Chris has seen the inside of a shower, and hell, he should be at least a bit disgusted and think a bit less about kissing every inch of Chris’ body, but they’ve been parted for so long. 

Chris chooses this moment to make a small irritated sound, brows wrinkling, and fuck, now it’s too late for Phil to move away, Chris is waking up, slate grey eyes blinking in confusion, bleary with sleep, and Phil stretches out his hand to cross the distance between them and push some of Chris’ unruly curls behind his ear, watching the confusion bleed away into a sincere smile.

    “Hey,” Phil whispers, beaming, and he keeps his hand where it is, subtly feeling out his lover’s heartbeat with his thumb. 

Chris wriggles a bit until they’re almost nose-to-nose, and then he tucks his face in Phil’s neck and just breathes in the scent of his skin.

Phil keeps on holding him close, fingers trailing over the soft skin of Chris’ back, feeling out the hardened muscles, and he makes a mental note to massage Chris later.

    “God, I missed you,” he admits muffledly into Phil’s shoulder and Phil pulls him even closer, their legs tangling underneath the sheets, and presses a possessive kiss into Chris’ scalp.

    “You need a shower,” Phil says gruffly, trying to quell the sudden tightness in his throat.

Chris gives a soft hum and nuzzles him some more.

    “Only if you wash my hair,” he sighs, and Phil grins.

    “What did you think I was going to do, clean the windows?”

Chris worms his way out of their embrace enough to give him a cheeky grin. 

    “Make breakfast?”

Phil laughs and rolls onto his back, pulling Chris on top of him and kisses him, ignoring the bad taste in favor of the slick feeling of Chris’ tongue, the press of his lips against his and the low groans Chris makes. Phil rolls his hips upwards and Chris pulls away to gasp curses, because fuck, they’ve definitely been apart for too long.

    “Shower!” Phil demands, nudging Chris to sit up.

 

The shower is big enough to hold four people, and usually that would make Phil goad Chris into shower sex, but it’s obvious he’s not quite up for it yet, and so Phil gently pushes him down onto the bench and begins working on his hair. Chris tips his head back against Phil’s stomach and groans as the doctor begins working his scalp over.

    “So tense, Chris…,“ Phil sighs, trailing his fingers down to rub over Chris’ neck, making the other man groan in pleasure-pain. “How bad is it?”

Chris just sighs and shakes his head. “I’ve never needed a vacation more, I think. God, what a clusterfuck.”

    “Mhmm.” Phil is wary about working the kinks out of Chris’ back here because he’s pretty sure it’ll be really painful, so he makes him tip his head back to rinse the suds out. “When we’re finished here, you go shave, brush your teeth, all that, and I’ll make breakfast, and then you take that pale ass of yours out in the sun to nap and I’ll work your back out later, okay? Doctor’s orders.”

    “Sounds fucking fantastic.” Chris grins, rising to his feet slowly and rubbing his sudsy body against Phil’s. “We’re not -” Chris bites at his left ear lobe gently and a shower of arousal sparks through Phil’s body. “-  completely finished with the showering though.”

    “Oh yeah, what do you have in mind?” Phil can feel Chris reach behind him for the bottle of shower gel and steps just a bit closer so he can run his hands over his lover’s back and buttocks more efficiently. 

The bottle falls with a seemingly deafening clatter from Chris’ hands probably because they’re trembling with exhaustion. Chris swears colorfully, front falling against Phil’s shoulder in dejection before he tries to extract himself from their embrace, but Phil is having precisely none of it.

    “Chris … look at me,” he murmurs, barely audible, and tilts Chris’ chin up to look into his eyes, and sure enough there’s a universe of sheer physical and mental exhaustion right behind the flimsy layer of defiance, and it breaks Phil’s heart. Instead of saying anything, he presses their foreheads together and kisses Chris, short and sweet, before picking the bottle up himself and lathering Chris up. And Chris lets him without as much as a snarky comment, and that, too speaks volumes.

 

Somehow, Chris doesn’t fall asleep while brushing his teeth but wanders out butt naked onto the patio just as Phil is done setting the table. The moon shaped bay, all fifteen miles of it across, is completely theirs apart from the indigenous species of water dwelling animals, and so even Phil has opted for nudity and he smiles at the sight of his lover’s gorgeous body. Chris moves stiffly enough that the doctor-side of Phil immediately diagnoses a tense, stressed back, a twisted knee, coupled with the serious bruise all over Chris’ right side that’s turned a purplish black as well as multiple other abrasions and minor burns. Nothing to write home about, really - Chris has suffered far worse - but still. 

But he’s also smiling a real, sunny smile, his hair is, albeit still wet, shining healthily, and he looks a lot better than last evening, so Phil can’t resist kissing him, fingers curling at the nape of his neck, revelling in the taste and smell and feel of Chris.

    “Beautiful,” is the first thing he say as he breaks away, nudging Chris towards the table.

    “Now c’mon, stuff your face, I know you’re dying to.”

Chris laughs, but then his stomach growls like one of the massive apex predators of the mountain planet Negador, and he does as he’s told.

 

Afterwards, he almost immediately collapses onto the gel sunning pad and is asleep within seconds. Phil foregoes immediately cleaning up the table and grabs his regen instead, running it over all the minor scrapes before setting it next to Chris’ injured side, because healing that will take a while, and then he turns his attention to the table.

 

Later, he’s sitting next to Chris’ head, legs dangling off the platform into the water, slowly perusing the latest issue of  _ Physical Trauma Therapy,  _ gently playing with Chris’ hair because god, he can’t seem to keep his fingers away from it when it’s gotten this long.

It’s almost noon, so he deactivates the UV screen he put over Chris and activates the full condo one instead. There’s no point in either of them getting a sunburn before they’ve had enough sex to make up for the months apart, and while Phil spent barely a moment inside any sort of dwelling during his assignment and his skin likely has regained enough melanin already, he knows it has been forever since Chris’ skin has seen sunshine of any kind. 

Chris yawns softly and snuffles, subconsciously seeking out Phil’s hand again, and Phil buries it back in his hair. The regen on his side is almost done, and depending on how soon Chris will wake up, the battery might just last for the smaller bruises on his front, too.

    “Y’ said somethin’ ‘bout a massage?” Chris slurs, tongue lazy with sleep, and Phil loves him so fiercely he feels as though his heart must shatter.

    “Yeah, I did, baby boy.  You up for that?”

Chris rolls onto his back, sighing, eyes still closed. “You regen’ed me.”

    “Not quite done yet.”

Chris gives another wiggle and falls silent. Phil reaches over and gets the regen, reprogramming it for the skin-only hurts of Chris’ front, and very carefully runs the device over his lover’s skin. It dies on him just after the last bruise is healed, and he chucks it in the general direction of the open door.

    “You want me to grab the massage oil and go to town on you?” He asks quietly. 

Instead of an answer, Chris reaches out and curls his fingers in his hair, pulling him down for a kiss. Phil twists with the silent plea, until he realizes that the angle is wrong enough for him to lose his balance and dump himself in the ocean with a yelp. He splutters a bit indignantly as he comes back up, thoroughly dripping. Chris has opened his eyes and turned on his side, grinning. He’s sparkling with little droplets of water, and the laugh lines around his eyes are crinkling. Phil leverages himself up onto the platform enough to kiss Chris, sliding his tongue across his lips just to prove a point, then pushes himself up to get a knee onto the wood, sending a shower of saltwater down onto his lover, and Chris laughs, readily flopping onto his back to allow Phil on top of him, kissing him until they’re both breathless.

Finally Phil pulls back, watching Chris watch him with a soft smile on his face.

    “Lemme get the oil,” he says, watching Chris’ face light up. 

 

Phil gets the vial of oil from the bedside table and returns to his beautiful boy. Chris has already flopped back onto his stomach, head pillowed on his arms, eyes half closed, humming appreciatively as Phil straddles his butt.

    “This is going to hurt,” he warns gently.

Chris shrugs noncommittally. “Do your worst.”

Phil leans down to press kiss against the side of Chris’ neck, feeling the carotid artery pulse gently under his lips, assuring him that Chris is really here, with him, alive and well. He sits back up and uncorks the vial, pouring a generous amount of oil into his palm, and sets the vessel aside.

Chris sniffs audibly. “Lytemaira oil?”

Phil hums his assent. “The market at planet-base had it, and I thought you might like it.” He lets the first warmed drops fall onto the sun heated skin under him, and Chris purrs as the scent bursts in the air. The oil, from the tree with the same name, is almost as rare as Risian weed because it is barely cultivable in off-planet farms, requiring an incredibly delicate balance of a plethora of nutrients in air, water and soil, but it produces an incredibly well-tasting fruit, the seeds of which are used to make the oil. It acts as a muscle relaxant, stimulates circulation, helps clear your head and has a multitude of other fantastic uses. And, as he and Chris have found out, it makes for the best lube  _ ever.  _ Of course the price reflects how amazing it is, so whenever they manage to get hold of some they like to keep it for special occasions when they have the time to go all-out.

Phil spreads a thin layer of the oil over Chris’ back, and then he goes to work on his neck, gently easing the knots out of his muscles. The neck is still the easy part, because once he moves on to his lover’s shoulders the muscles have the approximate consistency of sun-baked cement.

Chris growls audibly at Phil’s second pass and the doctor shushes him gently, digging his thumbs in just a bit deeper, dragging his knuckles over the especially bad knots, again and again, and then suddenly Chris just melts into the pad, muscles tangibly loosening, and Phil moves on. The twelfth vertebra down gives an audible pop as it realigns itself and they both laugh.

    “I love you,” Chris says as Phil’s running both his thumbs upwards next to his spine. “God, I love you so fucking much. I don’t ever want to be away from you for this long again. Ever.” 

And yeah, Phil shares that sentiment. He wouldn’t have said because he’s not the kind of man who expresses his emotions easily - not after a childhood and adolescence spent in an abusive household - but these months without Chris have undoubtedly been some of the hardest months of his life.

    “Never again,” he agrees, running his fingers through the dibs in the small of Chris’ back, and moves to kneel between Chris’ legs, trailing his fingers over his butt.

    “Don’t start something I can’t finish,” Chris mutters.

Phil teasingly rubs over Chris’ perineum. “Don’t tell me I did all this work and I won’t even get lucky.”

    “Oh, dunno, maybe you’re into your partner conking out halfway through it.”

Phil laughs and litters a few kisses over the thigh nearest to him. “Maybe after I’m done?”

    “Wha’ssat mean, you n’t done?” He’s falling asleep again. That’s just adorable.

    “Just relax, Christopher.”

Phil moves on to his legs, waking up the circulation there and making sure to at least touch on the lymph nodes and get them to release some of their liquid.

Once he’s reached the feet he pauses for a moment, flexing his fingers to regain some mobility. Chris has incredibly sensitive feet, perfect for tickling, a sensuous massage or a relaxing massage, the line between which is thin. And right now he needs relaxing, and Phil is intent on delivering that.

A little while later Chris is making the softest little snores, having succumbed to the overwhelming need to sleep again. Phil flops down next to him, coming as close as he dares without waking Chris up. He’s looking very small and vulnerable like this, and utterly cuddleable.

Phil reaches out and dips his fingers into the water, trying (and mostly failing) to get the oil off them. He’s too lazy to get up and actually wash his hands, so he foregoes continuing his reading and stretches out on the sunning pad instead, head pillowed on his biceps so he can watch Chris sleep. 

 

A couple hours later, Phil, sitting on the edge of the platform, is just considering going for a swim when Chris wakes up again, this time wasting no time to plaster himself against Phil.

    “Hey,” he rasps, kissing along Phil’s shoulders. “You look like you want to go for a dip.”

Phil grins. “Am I that predictable?”

Chris scoots next to him and lets his legs dangle off the edge too.

    “Ah, I think I’ve just known you for too long.” He leans his head against Phil. “This place is fucking amazing.”

Phil sneaks his arm around his lover’s waist. “Too long, huh?”

Chris laughs. “You know what I mean.”

Phil hums softly, watching the reflective patterns of the water on Chris for a while. “There’s a longboard in the shed, together with a suit, and I’ve seen some pretty good-looking waves already.”

Chris laughs. “I don’t know whether I still know how to surf.”

    “Nonsense. Once you’re on that thing again it’ll be like you never left. I know you, Chris, and I know you’ll never, ever forget how to surf.”

    “Fair. Tomorrow, though. Today, I think I’ll stay right here.”

It’s so easy, suddenly, being together again, like they’ve never been apart. Sure, sensory memory and all that, but the actual feel of their naked skin together, all the little gestures and quirks that make Chris  _ Chris _ , the way he speaks and laughs and kisses - it satisfies the hollow ache inside of Phil that’s been there ever since they wished each other a rather formal good-bye in the transporter room all those months ago.

    “You know you’ve got magic hands, right?”

Phil presses his nose into Chris’ hair and inhales deeply. “Mm, I do?”

    “Yeah you do. My back feels amazing. I think you deserve a reward.”

Phil noses down Chris’ neck, scraping his teeth over the soft skin.

    “Do I now?” It comes out more growly than he means to, but then again, it has been actual months since he last got laid, and vid calls have been far and few between, since Hectom II isn’t yet integrated into an up-to-date network, and comm sex just doesn’t really do it for either of them.

Chris shuffles so he can mouth at Phil’s ear lobe, teasing the soft skin. “Definitely, yeah. Got any requests?”

Phil feels himself twitch, and god, yeah he does. He turns to straddle Chris and kiss him, slow, wet and thoroughly filthy, letting his hands wander over defined deltoids and pecs, carding through the curled hairs on his chest, plucking at his nipples, making Chris gasp into his mouth. And surely enough their cocks are waking up too, assisted by the heavy grinding of their hips and, and least on Phil’s part, by the positively filthy sounds falling from his lover’s lips. He sneaks a hand down to grab Chris’ length, thumbing the slit, and Chris bucks against him, hard.

 

The water is still as nicely warm as it was when Phil fell in the first time, and this time the added weight of Chris drives them deeper, and it takes them a moment longer to come back to the surface, gasping for breath.

Chris swears beautifully dirty and Phil laughs.

    “How about we move this somewhere less dangerous?” he asks, breathless and grinning, watching as his lover levers himself out of the water, muscles in his arms bulging and flexing. Phil eyes him appreciatively.

    “You’ve got a really great ass, you know that?”

Chris throws him a mock glare. “Will you get out of the water and fuck that ass already?”

    “Mmm, I’ve got a pretty great view down here, don’t mind if I stay a while.” Phil grins predatorily, watching Chris sit down on the edge of one of the loungers. He’s half hard already, thick cock curving gently upwards, and Phil’s cock throbs in sympathy. He pillows his head on his arms on the deck, content to watch Chris for a while. It’s so goddamn nice to be able to take sex slow again, knowing there’s absolutely nothing out here that will disturb them. Actually, scratch that. It’s so goddamn nice to have sex again, period.

Their eyes meet and for a second Phil can’t breathe anymore. Just - knowing that this gorgeous, gorgeous man is his and his alone, and that Chris wants only him wakes something primal deep in his gut, makes him want to claim Chris for the whole universe to see. Yeah, it’s definitely too long since he got laid.

Chris leisurely drags a hand over his torso, running it through the curly hairs on his chest all the way down to his treasure trail, pressing the heel of his hand against his dick in a way that sure as hell feels amazing, groaning softly at the pleasure of it. He’s so beautiful, taking his time like that, head tilted back, the sun wrapping his face in a soft halo of blonde locks, lips falling open and eyes closed in bliss, long fingers wrapped around his dick and tugging. God, but Phil could watch him for the rest of eternity.

Chris’ other hand grasps at nothing and he gasps a bit more loudly than before, dick twitching again, a drop of precome beading at the tip, and Phil’s had enough.

Chris grins and makes sure to rake his eyes all over the doctor getting back onto the deck as well; making heat pool in Phil’s groin as he kneels between Chris’ legs, eyes level with his chest. He looks up and smirks at his lover. Chris gets so obviously aroused that it would be adorable if it weren’t also so hot.

    “Thought you deserved a reward, not me,” he says, grinning wildly and running his thumb over Phil’s jaw.

    “This  _ is  _ my reward, baby.” Phil sighs and licks his lips, bumping them against the mushroom head of Chris’ cock. His tongue flits out to taste his lover. They groan in unison. Phil nudges Chris’ legs apart a bit further and closes his lips around the head, tongue running over the slit and Chris’ hand cards into Phil’s hair like it never left.

    “God, yeah,” Chris gasps, already having trouble holding his hips still.

Phil suppresses a grin and sinks down further, ever so slowly. It’s been forever since he’s done this, so his throat is way out of practice and he can’t quite suppress his gag reflex.

    “Shit, baby, be careful,” Chris murmurs, nudging him back gently, voice already rough.

Phil winks. “Oh, don’t worry. Gotta break myself back in somehow, don’t I?” he says and swallows Chris down again, this time more careful. The scent and taste of his lover are already providing a heady rush of adrenaline and … well, he can’t think of the right word right now, he’s a bit distracted, but surely there’s some kind of sex hormone that’s now wreaking havoc through his system. Phil plays with the vein on the underside of Chris’ cock and his lover whines, scratching uselessly at his scalp, half begging him to take him even further.

Phil snakes a hand in as well, tugging gently on Chris’ balls. He draws back to look up at his lover and … damn, he’s so pretty, head thrown back and mouth slack and open like that.

A soft growl works its way up Chris’ throat and he meets Phil’s eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing something?”

Phil laughs out loud. “Bossy, are we?” Before Chris can answer, Phil licks a broad stripe over the inside of his right thigh, ending just so he can nuzzle the crease between his legs and tug at the soft skin with his teeth. Chris sobs softly, just once, but his cock leaks a staggering amount of precome, pearling down the length. Phil fits his lips to the side of it, moving upwards to suck over the head again. 

The noise leaving Chris' throat is heavenly, and so Phil goes down on him again, this time managing to press his nose into the curls at the base of Chris' cock. He's close, Phil knows, but he can probably safely take it a bit further, so he pulls up again, ending with a twist and a press of his tongue right into Chris' slit.

Chris shouts.

Phil doesn't waste a second in filling his mouth again, grasping his lover's cock in his fist so he can concentrate on getting the head. His other hand snakes down to grind against his own neglected cock and he moans around the length in his mouth. Chris' hold on his hair is beginning to border on painful, but he'll be damned if he stops now. He runs his tongue under the head, pushing upwards gently and - yeah, Chris still reacts the same way, hips almost bucking off the lounger. He moans again, this time making sure to give his lover as many vibrations as he can, and Chris gasps a breathless sound and curls in on himself.

    "God, Phil, please -"

Phil pulls off with a slick sound, making a show of licking his lips and catching the fresh bead of precome from the tip. Chris whimpers.

    "God, you're gonna make me come like this."

    "Mmmh." Phil meets his eyes. They're so dark, the pupils so far blown that the blue is almost gone completely.

    "Please," his lover begs desperately.

    "What do you need, baby?" Phil asks in the sultriest voice he can manage, licking his lips again for good measure. "Wanna come in my mouth? Make a mess of my face?"

Chris squeezes his eyes closed, lips suddenly set in a thin line. 

    "Please."

    "Gotta use your words, baby boy." Phil nuzzles his stomach gently, running his tongue over the defined muscles and tasting the sea water and the sweat and the desperation emanating from him.

    "Need you," Chris gasps.

    "I'm right here, beautiful. Tell me what you need." Phil runs his hand over his lover's leg, teasing the soft skin he finds.

Chris exhales shakily, squaring his shoulders and trying to find his balance again. It's cute, really, cause he knows that Chris is so close to the brink that a single breath tickling him in the right place will make him cry with stimulation.

    "You asshole," his captain pants out and Phil laughs. 

    "Oh, you don't have to let yourself be fucked by me, darling boy. By all means, tell me and I'll go."

Chris glares down at him. Usually that's impressive enough to make even seasoned officers turn sheet white, but it doesn't work on Phil. Especially not if his lover is that obviously desperate for just about anything at this point. His cock twitches in a silent plea for more attention, and Phil nuzzles it gently.

Chris groans pitifully.

    "Please, Phil, need you, need you to fuck me, spread me out, make me yours again. Please it's been so long, I need to feel you inside me again, please, please, please." Chris is panting with the exertion of stringing together a coherent sentence. "Please," he repeats again, giving his best impression of puppy eyes.

Phil groans and throws him a dirty grin. "You're so fucking hot when you beg me like that, baby. So fucking hot."

He stands up and pushes Chris down onto the lounger. Chris goes willingly, teeth tugging at his lower lip. 

Phil meanders over to where he left the oil earlier, making sure to not show too much haste. Chris whines softly and he grins over his shoulder.

    "Come on, baby, I haven't seen you for so long, least I can do is make it last." He winks.

Chris growls. "Yeah, but don't think I'm gonna. Last, that is. God, I've missed you."

Phil bends down languidly and snatches the little bottle up from the floor. 

    "I've missed you too, beautiful."

Chris spreads his legs as soon as Phil moves back towards him, and Phil readily kneels between them on the lounger. 

    "Eager, are we?"

Chris delivers a half-serious kick to his side for that.

    "Damn you for making me wait this long," he growls, slowly getting back on top of things. 

Phil just laughs softly. "Come on, you know you like it this way."

    "I like it any way, but for everything that's holy, will you please get a damn move on?"

Phil bends down to press a line of gentle kisses up Chris' thigh. "Missed me so much?"

    "Yeah, dammit. Come on, it's been six months, please fuck me already." Chris' voice takes on a whine again, quietly begging with his whole body, and Phil takes pity on him. He unstoppers the bottles but then thinks better of it and corks it up again, setting it aside.

Chris' desperately high pitched whine breaks off when Phil presses his first two fingers against his lover's lips, and Chris sucks on them eagerly. 

Some playful extra stimulation is probably going to piss Chris off even more, but there are rules; also he's probably too pent up right now to truly take offense.

Phil bends over him further, biting a mark into the soft skin of Chris' neck, and his lover's entire body lurches up to roll against him in a desperate search for friction. Phil chuckles, and Chris groans.

    "What do you want, baby?" Phil asks him softly, pulling his fingers free but letting them rest against Chris' lower lip.

    "Y'know," he gasps out after a moment of panting. "I think I'm at a point where all I want is to get off. Don't even care how."

    "Aww, now you're just being mean. You know I'll give it to you good."

Chris pushes himself up to rest on his elbows. A dangerous smirk glitters over his features.

    "Well, 'till now you haven't given anything to me."

Phil licks a long, slow stripe up Chris' neck. God, but he'll never get tired of how good his lover tastes. 

    "I seem to recall a blowjob in the not-so-distant past."

Chris captures his mouth as he moves away, and nips sharply at Phil's lower lip.

    "Yeah, well, you didn't finish it though."

    "Want me to? I'll make it good." Phil winks, kissing him again and pressing his tongue deep into Chris' mouth, claiming him.

    "Yeah, sounds good."

Phil laughs and presses his face into Chris' shoulder, blindly searching for the bottle of oil. Chris presses his calf gently against Phil’s side and grins up at his lover. Phil slicks up his fingers and presses them against Chris’ hole, and Chris gasps softly, unconsciously moving to meet the touch. Phil kisses his knee and slowly pushes the first finger in, watching his lover’s face take on that blissed half smile that he knows so well.

Phil needs a moment to angle his finger correctly and Chris rewards him with a groan, eyes falling shut.

    “It's been a while,” Phil murmurs against the skin of Chris’ knee, gently thrusting his finger in and out.

    “I'm not gonna  _ break _ , Phil, come on.”

    “Bossy.”

    “You like it.”

Phil laughs and nudges a second finger against his rim. 

    “God, yeah I do.” He watches Chris throw his head back at the intrusion, breath shuddering.

    “See, that's what I'm talking about. God, yeah.”

Chris rolls his hips back to meet Phil’s fingers, and Phil spreads them on the way out, watching Chris squirm from under heavy lids. Chris is tight, but he positively melts into Phil’s spreading touch, so Phil spends a few minutes massaging into Chris, trying not to get sidetracked by all the delicious little noises his lover makes. Then he adds a third finger. 

Chris’ brow furrows at that, his entire body tightening, and Phil stops.

    “Chris? Talk to me baby.”

   “I'll be fine, just - go slow, yeah?” Chris visibly tries to relax and force his body to accept the intrusion. “It's been a while,” he admits a touch shakily.

    “Don't force it,” Phil whispers, rubbing gently over his thigh. “We don't have to -”

Chris growls, so damn bossy, and presses back some more, urging Phil to thrust his fingers into him. 

    “Always so stubborn.” Phil shakes his head and curls his fingers a bit, catching Chris’ rim on the pull out, and then he presses back in, aiming to hit his prostate. 

He’s rewarded with Chris throwing back his head, offering up his throat, a broken sound leaving his lips.

    “God, Phil, yessss.” Chris cants his hips up, whining and trying to follow Phil’s hand as he draws back. Phil finds a rhythm quickly enough, and watches in mesmer as Chris moves against him, making the prettiest noises.

Phil allows himself to press his dick against Chris’ balls, relieving some of the pressure, and he can't help but thrust against the silky skin. Chris throws him an alluring but shaky grin, and then Phil rubs over his prostate again and Chris bows his back with a keen.

    “ _ Fuck _ !” He pants out. “Damn, Phil, I'm ready enough, just - please!”

Phil laughs and spreads his fingers again, pulling out and pushing back in, rubbing the pads of his fingers over the bundle of sensitive nerves, making his lover whimper. He curls them some more, pushing right against that spot and -

    “Red!” Chris wheezes out and Phil freezes, heart missing a beat.

    “Fuck, baby, are you okay?!” Blood rushing in his ears now, heart thundering and he’s almost shaking.

Chris gasps in deep breaths for a moment that seems to drag on forever, and terror is making Phil’s throat seize up ( _ angina, anginae, feminin, inflammation of the throat; also: terror, stenocardia _ , thanks to his brain for going into overdrive right now); and then Chris’ eyes blink open again.

    “Jesus, Phil,” Chris says, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. He nudges Phil to remove his fingers and sits up, pressing gentle kisses against Phil’s jaw. “What happened to ‘red for I’m so fucking close to coming you need to stop now’?”

Phil can physically feel his blood pressure normalize and he drops his head to Chris’ shoulders, groaning.

    “ _ Black _ is ‘everything is the worst, stop right now’,” Chris teases gently, running his fingers through Phil’s hair.

    “See, that’s what happens when we’re apart for so long,” Phil groans into his lover’s shoulder. 

A soft laugh shudders through Chris’ body. “You forget our safewords? Come on, baby.”

Teeth tease tenderly at the shell of Phil’s ear.

    “You know -” Oh, and the breath ghosting over his skin. Tiny shivers run over Phil’s skin. 

“- maybe we should move this to the bed. You, against the headboard, and I could ride you like I know you want me to, all yours to watch.”

    “That… does sound good,” Phil admits, aiming for nonchalance and failing spectacularly.

They fall off the lounger a bit overeagerly, Chris crowding Phil, nipping at his lips. Phil only has enough space of mind to grab the oil, and then his lover is pushing him towards the open doors. Chris crawls on his lap the second Phil’s settled against the headboard, both of them fumbling with the pillows and the duvet, Chris making absolutely delicious noises whenever the head of his cock brushes against Phil’s stomach, their lips bumping together in a hundred not-kisses, exchanging breaths and little whimpers. As soon as Phil’s settled, he grabs hold of his lover’s hips and holds him, stilling their movements. Chris grins down at him cockily, sweeping an unruly curl of hair away from his face, lower lip stuck in a pout he probably thought was cute.

    “Please, daddy?”

Phil blinks at him for a moment before he laughs.

    “Somebody -” He pulls Chris’ hips flush with his own, relishing in his lover’s choked breath. “- needs to be spanked.” And Chris’ smile transforms into the dirtiest grin he can manage.

    “Is that an offer?”

Phil sits up far enough to bite hard enough at the soft skin of Chris’ cleavage to leave a mark, growling softly.

    “Tomorrow,” he promises, settling back against the pillows.

Chris shoots him a huge smile, and then he reaches back and takes hold of Phil’s dick, running his thumb over the head. Phil’s breath shudders in his throat.

And of course Chris takes his goddamn time, teasing the head against his rim and then ever so slowly letting it slip inside of him. The muscles in Phil’s arms are locked, almost painful, but he doesn’t dare move. All he wants is to tug his lover down onto himself, but this is Chris’ call, and his alone, and so he only watches, and feels the delicious slide of that velvet heat.

Chris chokes out a half-sob and takes the remainder of Phil’s length all at once, spine bowing with the sudden pleasure, gasping needy little whimpers, and Phil desperately thinks of the worst operations he had to do, anything, just to get him off the edge.

    “Chris!” he chokes, nails leaving deep indents on his lover’s hips with how hard he’s gripping him. A little staccato  _ ah! ah! ah! _ is leaving Chris’ throat, body tight as a bow, tiny tremors wracking his frame.

    “God, are you okay, baby, are you okay?”

Chris moans in answer, letting his head fall forward, hair obscuring his face. “It’s been a while.”

Phil smoothes his hands over Chris’ flanks, allowing his lover time to get used to being impaled on his dick again. 

    “You know… we could have prepped you more,” Phil offers, watching the half masked grin split Chris’ face.

    “Aw, nah. I'm good.” Chris gives a soft rock of his hips, hissing at the stretch, but he doesn't stop, moving in little circles. Watching Chris focus the way he does when he's riding Phil’s dick is probably one of Phil’s favorite things, because Chris is so beautiful like this, all strong muscle and desperate little noises. Chris is always beautiful, but sometimes he’s extra beautiful. Phil reaches up to push the hair out of his lover’s face and Chris presses his face into Phil’s hand, purring. Phil's other hand interlinks with Chris’ almost subconsciously, fingers tightening around each other as Chris bucks his hips harder. Then he rises up on his knees and Phil’s hand trails down from his face to wrap loosely around his dick, allowing Chris to thrust up into his hand as he's snapping his hips back down again. 

Chris growls softly at that, throwing his head back again, and he gets up on his knees again, almost letting Phil slip out of his body's embrace, before rushing down again, twisting in this delicious way that's all Chris. 

Phil keeps the hand around his dick, more of an offer than any real stimulation, and watches his lover work himself into a sweat. 

    "You're so damn good at this, baby, and so beautiful. Missed you so much, missed this so much, god, look at the way you move, love the way you -"

Chris clenches down on Phil's dick, and the doctor can't resist the urge to buck upwards. Chris' grin is feral. "Now we're talking. C'mon, Phil, you know what I want."

Phil grabs his hips and slams him down into his lap. "You and your damn smart mouth, baby."

Chris rolls his hips again, going easily with the rhythm Phil is giving him, gasping out short huffy breaths whenever the length inside of him brushes over that little bundle of nerves. For a while the only sound heard in the room is the slapping of skin on skin, and then Phil deliberately changes the angle of his thrust and - Chris screams, muscles locking down, eyes squeezed shut.

    "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck."

Phil laughs breathily, his hips grinding up into Chris on their own accord, drawing out little pants and whimpers.

    "Gonna come for me, baby?"

The only answer that comes from Chris is a low moan.

    "You know the rules, beautiful." Phil's voice turns sugary sweet. God, he isn't far from the edge either, but he wants to antagonize Chris just a little bit longer. "You don't get to come before I do."

Chris tips his chin down again and regards Phil with a hazy smile. "Wouldn't dream of it ... sir."

Phil growls and pulls Chris half off his dick again. "You little shit."

He chooses the next thrust just so it nails Chris' prostrate dead on, and the captain wails, immediately bucking his hips up just to shove them back down again. Their rhythm is clearly going to hell, but Chris doesn't care, fucking himself on Phil's cock with the oblivion of a man who's been all but starved for physical pleasure. His dick is an angry red and it keeps twitching and slapping against his stomach with every thrust, precome pearling in the hair on his stomach.

Phil runs his fingertips over the length, gathering up the clear substance and then pressing his fingers against Chris' lips. He stills, just for a moment, to lap at the fingers offered to him, and then he grinds down again, obviously desperate. Phil plays with his lover's balls, tugging gently, and Chris groans like a wounded animal. There's sweat dripping down his temples now, and he's clenching impossibly tighter around Phil, each time sending a shower of sparks up his lover's spine.

Phil takes Chris' cock in hand, thumb pressing against the slit, and he's rewarded with a flood of precome and an involuntary shiver that, frankly, feels absolutely amazing around his dick. They're not going to last much longer. Chris is already curling in on himself, around the pleasure burning hot and bright in his gut, so Phil tugs him down and kisses him, hot and messy, angling his hips to hit Chris' prostate on every thrust, feeling him quake above him.

    "Oh, oh, oh, Phil, please, no, I'm gonna -"

Chris comes with a quiet shivering sob of Phil's name, pressing his face into his lover's shoulder as he convulses around him, and Phil bucks up with more force now, thrusting in and out of his hole, hitting his prostate dead on everytime, and every time Chris groans and tightens around him again, shuddering through the aftershocks until he's completely lax on top of Phil.

Phil tousles his hair gently.

    "How's my favorite beautiful boy feel, huh?"

    "Sorry," comes the muffled reply, nose nuzzling a bit deeper into Phil's shoulder as another smaller shiver wracks through Chris.

Phil teases his fingers over Chris' spine and down between his buttocks, feeling where they are still joined.

    "What was that?"

    "I'm sorry," Chris repeats a bit louder. His erection twitches gently against the skin of their stomachs.

    "Mmm, whatever would you be sorry for, darling? You didn't come yet, so I'm willing to forgive you your sudden ..." Phil desperately thinks of a way to word this. "... lack of enthusiasm."

Chris snorts involuntarily. "So it's only an orgasm when -"

    "- when you're not hard anymore, after," Phil confirms and gives his lover's ass a gentle slap.

Chris slowly pushes himself up again on unsteady hands. They both exhale shakily as he takes all of Phil again, and Chris moves his hips in tiny circles for a few moments, getting his bearings back. He's so beautiful like this, glowing with the ecstasy of a recent orgasm but still so unsatisfied; mellowed and sharply alert in such a beautiful contrast. 

Phil plants his feet into the mattress again, throwing his lover a grin.

    "Are you gonna get a move on sometime this century?"

Chris lifts himself up from Phil's lap again. "Yes, sir. My pleasure, sir." 

And then he leans back, steadying himself on Phil's knees, putting himself on display, and begins rutting into Phil again, unashamedly taking his own pleasure and watching Phil from under long lashes.

Phil goes for Chris' cock again, tugging it roughly in time with its owner's thrusts. The pleasure is sharp and burning now, so damn close to spiking, and all he wants is to drag Chris down with him, watch him lose control.

A soft "please" falls from Chris' lips, and Phil twists his hand on the upstroke. Chris changes his position lightning-fast and tightens some more around Phil, voice almost breaking. 

Phil meets him thrust for thrust and he’s close, so damn close, so fucking close and Chris, Chris, Chris -

Chris comes silently, head thrown back, squeezing Phil so tight he sees stars, just the extra bit of stimulation he needed to -

    “Chris, god, Chris, yes, yes~”

 

    "We should clean up," Phil says into the locks in his face.

Chris hums softly. "Probably, yeah." He doesn't move though, except for his fingers still stroking Phil's flank.

They're both basking in the bone deep exhilaration-exhaustion of really good sex coupled with the sweet delirium of being together again. There'll be hell to pay, later, when they're trying to unstick their nether regions that'll surely be glued together with come and sweat and oil, but right this moment there's nowhere Phil would rather be than pinned under the weight of his lover, constricted breathing be damned. He hooks his leg around Chris', rubbing his knee along the backside of his upper thigh and man, if he weren't so wiped out he'd probably start a make out session. Because as fantastic as their sex just was - it's not enough to make up for six whole months of not having this. 

    "Nap?"

    " _ Chris-to-pher. _ " Phil pretends to be scandalized. "We haven't seen each other for so long, why won't you just spend some time with me?"

Chris laughs quietly, whole body shaking. He pushes himself up enough to meet Phil's eyes and smiles. "Isn't napping the  _ best _ kind of bonding? You wake up, all sleepy and warm and you're just wrapped around the man you love most in the universe and every breath you take smells like him and you can feel his heartbeat and then you doze off again to the feeling of him so close to you, and you wake up again in the same position but maybe you're holding each other in a different way but you're still as close and as warm and as comfortable."

Phil's face suddenly becomes very hot and he tries to avert his eyes, but his lover is so damn close to him that his universe is narrowed to Chris' eyes.

    "I love you too, you know," he mutters, pulling Chris in and kissing him, letting a shuddering breath escape against Chris' lips. Chris sighs into the kiss as well, and he reaches to grasp Phil's hand and hold it before he trails his lips down the side of Phil's face again to rest his head in the crook of his neck. Phil stares at the ceiling and smiles a bit dazedly.

    "I love you," he repeats. He can feel Chris' face splitting into a smile against his skin.

    "I know. I love you too."

The bitter-sweet stab to his heart comes almost immediately after. 

    "Does it bother you?" His voice wavers ever-so-slightly.

    "Does what bother me?"

    "That I don't - that I don't say it as much. As much as you do, or ... as much as another person might."

Chris sighs, long and weary, and, right, damn, it's still only been a day since he got off his mission, and maybe it's too early to ask the heavy questions, maybe he should save them for later when they've basked in the joy of being together again for long enough.

    "Phil..."

    "I've just ... I've been thinking, Chris." I've been thinking, imagining, that, maybe you don't love me the way I love you. That maybe you won't want me anymore. That maybe the spark would be gone when we met again.

    "Phil, I know..." Chris twists their fingers together, contemplating what he’s going to say. "I know why you think I might not love you, again and again, when we're apart for a longer time, when we don't see each other as much because we're swamped with work. I know why, I know where that insecurity comes from. How do I ... how can I make you believe me when I say that I'll never, ever get tired of you? You're - you're the love of my life, Philip." Chris levers himself up again and pins Phil with a heavy gaze. "I love you so much, baby." He's going a bit blurry in Phil's sight, but he knows the soft smile on his lover's face like the back of his hand.

    "Now, how do I make you believe that I'll be yours  _ forever _ , huh? ‘Cause I will be. For every single moment that’s yet to come.”

Phil pulls him close again and groans into his shoulder.

    “I know. I know, and I’m sorry bringing this up again, it’s just -”

    “I know, baby. And it’s okay. I love everything about you, even the parts you don’t love about yourself.”

And, hell, what can Phil say against that?

So instead of responding he kisses Chris’ shoulder, holding him even closer, and observes how Chris’ breathing evens out again until he’s asleep.  _ Again _ .

 

Predictably, Chris is very grumbly and very cute about them waking up glued together, but they make it to the shower and Phil spends some quality time littering kisses all over his skin.

    “So, about that swim…”

Chris grins. “Oh yes. C’mon sweetheart.”

He drags Phil outside and lets go of him only shortly before the ledge of their platform, the splash he makes drenching Phil too, and then he’s propping himself up on the platform with his elbows, grinning seductively.

    “Come on, the water’s warm.”

Phil mock-sighs, sitting on the edge with Chris immediately resting his head on his thigh, dangerously close to his nether regions, trailing a hand through Chris’ hair.

    “What do I get if I decide to flounder around in the water with you?”

    “Kisses. Lots and lots of kisses!”

Phil laughs and pulls Chris up, simultaneously bending down, taking the first of the promised kisses and letting himself fall sideways into the water with Chris.

 

They spend what feels like hours splashing around in the water, swimming close enough to the shore that they can dive to the bottom and chase some of the colorful fish. Phil almost comes face to face with a seal-like creature.

 

They cook dinner together, and again it’s so easy to fall back into their routine, moving completely in sync.

After dinner they settle onto the patio swing, Chris on Phil’s chest, listening to his lover’s heartbeat and soaking up his warmth. The only downside is that he has to sit up to take a sip of the excellent wine Phil bought, but hey.

Phil tugs a light blanket over them and keeps the hand not holding the wine glass securely in Chris’ hair.

    “How’s the ship?” he asks softly.

Chris purrs and rubs his face against the hair on Phil’s chest. “Surprisingly good. Well. Considering the circumstances. Impulse only, since the nacelles have been all but shot out and some idiot who managed to come aboard the ship and fry half the wires to the dish out, and there are more holes in the hull than officers in Starfleet, but she’ll make it.” He doesn’t mention the deaths yet. There’ll be time for that later, when they have to face the ugly reality of life again, when Chris will have to write the next-of-kin letters, but tonight is for them.

    “How was Hectom?”

Phil snorts. “Humid, filled with small creatures with lots of legs and disgustingly shower-free. No wonder they managed to get that epidemic. ‘Fleet deployed some med cadets too, poor kids were practically chugging disinfectant. You got used to it, but … yikes.”

Chris chuckles. “Ew.”

    “Mhm. Half jungle, half swamp. Perfect for just about every critter to breed in, and then some idiot releases a whole Arc of off-planet animals, all of which carry a different kind of bacteria, and then they suddenly realize that it was a bad idea and come crying to Starfleet.”

    “And Starfleet sends them their best doctor.” Chris kisses him. “I’m happy you’re back. I love you.”

Phil kisses him back. “You too, beautiful, you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :D glad you're in this rarepair hell with me together!


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